Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Oliver pulled up outside MacLeod’s Cottage and studied the house.
It looked worse than the hotel — though he could see repairs were underway.
Still, what was it with these people and their fixation with the past?
He didn’t get it. And why the hell had he accepted an invitation to a family lunch with people he had nothing in common with? But he knew.
Lucy.
He shut the car door, tucked the food basket under his arm and walked up the jasmine-scented path. Ridiculous how nervous he felt. He hadn’t been this way since he was a boy.
He inhaled deeply and pressed the doorbell.
Lucy was in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. No one ever used the doorbell. People knocked, then walked straight in calling greetings. It had to be him. She continued chopping some veg.
‘Lucy?’ called Kate. ‘Can you get that?’
Lucy looked through the window to see Kate showing Liam and his friend, George something.
All the others — Dan, Jen, Sam, and their friends Megan and Ryan — were gathered around the old bench at the edge of the sand dunes, deep in conversation.
From the way Megan was touching her pregnant stomach, and Jen was nodding in agreement, she guessed the conversation was about pregnancy.
She was best off out of it. She’d never had a rapport with children — apart from Liam, who seemed to have insisted on a special relationship with ‘Aunty Lucy’ despite her lack of skills in that area.
‘Lucy?’ repeated Kate.
‘OK,’ said Lucy, wiping her hands on a dishcloth and reluctantly leaving the kitchen for the hall.
She could see his outline through the glass panes of the door.
Her heart started to hammer in her chest. What on earth was she doing following her mother’s advice?
This man was Danger with a capital D. He was a danger to the village — and worse, to her.
Time seemed to slow. She opened the door, intending to look cool and unaffected — and immediately failed.
He had his back to her and turned with a smile she hadn’t seen before. Then she placed it. He was being polite. He’d clearly decided to tone down ‘Dangerous Oliver’ for the afternoon.
‘Oliver,’ she said, keeping her voice cool even as her gaze snagged on him.
‘Lucy,’ he said, the corners of his mouth quirking.
She glanced down to see what he was holding. ‘You’ve brought a basket.’
‘I brought what you asked for.’ He shifted it against his hip as if it was heavy. ‘I thought I’d better not arrive empty handed.’
‘It’s a big basket for a bottle of lemonade and a supermarket salad.’
He shrugged and she stepped back and opened the door wider. He entered the hall. She waved her hand in a flourish. ‘Please go through. We’re out the back.’
He nodded and walked on past the stairs towards the back of the house.
She followed him, thinking how strange it was to see him here.
With his perfect hair, trousers and shirt, he looked like he’d stepped out of American Vogue and into a world where he didn’t belong.
If her mother thought that bringing this alien creature to a family lunch would help him understand about community and MacLeod’s Cove, she was destined to be severely disappointed.
But at least she’d get her mother off her back and make her see that this man really was their enemy.
‘You can put the basket down here,’ she said pointing to a side table. She had no intention of opening it. The lemonade and supermarket salad had been a joke and she certainly didn’t want to include it in the spread she was making. ‘My family are all outside.’
‘Oh,’ said Kate, stepping into the kitchen and depositing some things she’d been using with the boys onto the kitchen table. ‘I thought I heard voices.’ Her smile was bright and warm. ‘You must be Oliver.’
‘I am.’
Kate shook his extended hand. ‘I’m Kate MacLeod, Lucy’s mother. I’m so glad you were able to come to lunch.’
‘Not often I receive an invitation to a family lunch. I hope I’m not intruding.’
‘Not at all. We often include friends.’ He looked out the window, and Kate followed his glance.
‘That lot aren’t all mine.’ She grinned.
‘Megan is a good friend and the local school teacher. Ryan is George and’ — she glanced around and pointed to a toddler crawling through a flower bed — ‘Alfie’s dad. I’ll introduce you to them all.’
She looked at Lucy. ‘Are you sure you don’t need a hand, darling?’
Lucy shook her head. ‘I’ve got it, Mum. You both go outside and leave me to it.’
Kate turned to Oliver and raised her eyebrows. ‘My Lucy likes to do things her way.
Oliver shot her a sideways glance. ‘I can imagine.’
‘She claims we get in the way.’
‘You do. And you are,’ said Lucy firmly, really wanting them both gone. ‘Go and top up the champagne.’
‘Ah,’ said Oliver, going towards the basket. ‘I can help you there.
‘We don’t want lemonade.’
To her annoyance he ignored her and opened the basket and pulled out an expensive bottle of champagne. He held it out to her. ‘I assumed you were joking.’
She hadn’t been. She’d wanted him to look a fool in front of her family and she felt ashamed now as she realised he knew perfectly well what she’d done.
‘Right.’ She paused. ‘And I suppose you don’t have the much-longed-for supermarket coleslaw?’
‘I didn’t make these salads, but my local delicatessen in Wellington did. He pulled out an array of dishes, which made Lucy’s mouth water.
She took them from him. ‘I’ll…’ She gestured towards the kitchen.
‘Sure. And I’ll join Kate.’ They both looked to where Kate was waiting diplomatically outside for him.
Lucy watched him step away. ‘Er, Oliver?’
He stopped and turned to her. ‘Thanks for bringing these. Although I will miss Woolies’ coleslaw.’
He huffed a laugh. ‘There’s one in the basket, especially for you. Oh, and a can of lemonade. I didn’t want to disappoint you.’
One step ahead as usual. Lucy watched as he walked with Kate to the others who all turned to greet him, most with a wary smile.
She was glad her mother had offered to introduce him to everyone.
It was bad enough he was here, but watching the faces of her family as they tried to figure out what Lucy really felt for this stranger would have been trying.
But she couldn’t remain inside forever. By the time she emerged from the house, Oliver was seated beside Kate.
‘Come and sit down, Lucy,’ called Kate, before Lucy could escape to hang out with Sam and Dan at the barbecue. ‘You must be finished in the kitchen now.’
‘Yep, all done.’ Lucy sat in the vacant chair opposite Oliver. Their gazes tangled briefly before she studiously looked away. ‘So, what have I missed?’
‘Kate was telling me about the bench you’re sitting on. How it was your great grandmother’s.’
‘Oh, yeah. Ngaire. Did Mum also tell you that she reckons I take after her?’
’She may have mentioned it.’
Lucy glanced at her mother who was helping Liam with something. ‘I bet she did. Ngaire was pretty scary and, so, apparently can I be.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Who knew?’
‘Me for one,’ said Oliver.
She raised an eyebrow and took a sip of her champagne. ‘I don’t believe that for one second. I think it would take more than an angry chef to scare you.’
‘How about a hurt one?’
She took another sip. She needed it. ‘Hm. You think I’m hurt?’
‘I know you were. Maybe not now. But after our night together… And I’m really sorry about that.’
She looked around quickly, hoping no-one had overheard that. She seemed safe. Everyone was busy.
‘Yeah, you said before. You’re sorry if I was upset.’
‘No, I mean I’m sorry I led you to believe I was someone I wasn’t. I’m sorry I tried to use you.’
Lucy was speechless. She hadn’t expected that.
‘I want this project to go ahead and I knew your influence could make things easier for me. Lucy,’ he inclined his head to her so that only she could hear, ‘I thought I could use you like I use everyone else in my life. But I was wrong. And I’m sorry.’
‘Me, too.’ She rose and walked away, ostensibly to get some drinks, but in truth, because she didn’t know what to do with his apology. It shifted something — and she wasn’t ready for anything to shift.
Did he mean that he’d had a change of heart about the entire project, or simply that he regretted tricking her because he desired her?
She hadn’t a clue. And right now, surrounded by friends and family, with confusion raging through her head and heart, she couldn’t have talked about it, even if she’d wanted to.
She grabbed some beers and a cooler with the champagne. ‘Top up anyone?’
Dan nodded and accepted a beer.
‘Thought you were more of a champagne man since the US?’
He nodded towards Sam with whom he’d been talking. ‘It’s got to be beer in front of my mate here. He’d think I’d gone soft.’
‘Too right,’ said Sam glancing at them briefly before looking back at the barbecue and turning the kebabs over carefully. The fat and yoghurt mix hissed on the hot coals. ‘You can’t go all posh on me, mate. God knows we’ve got enough in-comers into MacLeod’s Cove doing that.’
Dan cleared his throat and raised his eyes in a not-so-secret message to Sam who focussed studiously on the barbecue.
Lucy sighed, knowing exactly who they were referring to.
She put down her glass of champagne, wrestled the top off a beer and took a long swig.
She was more a beer girl at heart. She turned to watch Oliver.
‘Yeah, sorry about bringing one here.’
‘No worries,’ said Sam, as if she’d brought home something horrible into the house.
‘It’s not your fault. You’re just trying to fight for our community.
’ He glanced at Oliver. ‘I know Kate thinks that if Oliver spends more than a few minutes with us, he’ll be converted.
I’m afraid she’s barking up the wrong tree there.
Oliver Perry-Warnes sings to his own tune.
No-one else’s. I’d steer clear of him, Lucy. He’s trouble.’
‘You’re preaching to the converted,’ she said taking another slug of beer and looking out to sea. ‘I think I might go for a swim later.’
Jen put her arm around her shoulders. ‘No more beer if you want to do that. Let’s eat.’ She leaned in closer. ‘And watch Mum try to tame the dragon.’
Lucy huffed a small laugh, linked arms, and they took the cooked kebabs to the family.
As soon as she could after lunch, Lucy slipped away. But she hadn’t gone a dozen paces over the sand when she heard someone following her. She turned around.
‘Mind if I join you?’ Oliver asked.
She should, but instead she shook her head. ‘No.’ She waited until he’d caught up before they set off across the wet sand toward the shoreline. ‘So, has Mum persuaded you about the delights of family and heritage and history?’
‘She, er, certainly talked about it, with examples.’
‘Oh, yes, she’s good on examples. Classic teacher.’
‘I noticed you kept your distance.’
‘I didn’t want to hinder her efforts. I told her you were a lost cause but she doesn’t believe anyone is.’ She stopped and blinked into the sun. ‘I guess that’s nice really.’
‘Rare, I’d say.’
‘Me too,’ said Lucy continuing on to the shore.
They walked in silence until the waves threatened to lap Oliver’s shoes and he stopped.
Lucy looked down at his feet. ‘Be careful you don’t ruin your lovely Italian leather shoes,’ she teased.
‘I won’t,’ he said. ‘Because I’m going nowhere near the sea. I’m not dressed for it.’
She grinned. The men she’d grown up around had all been gung-ho macho men who didn’t care how they looked or what they ate or drank.
Their needs were basic. But not this man.
His needs were much greater. He had a reverence for beauty and for the finer things in life which she’d never encountered before in a man.
It interested her. Challenged her. She liked that.
‘You’re looking at me strangely,’ he said, his lips curving into a smile as he watched her.
She basked under the heat of that smile. With only a brief break in eye contact she pulled her dress over her head and tossed it to him. He adeptly caught it just before it fell into the water. Leaving her standing only in her white bikini.
‘You come prepared.’ His smile broadened.
‘Always,’ she said, before turning her back on him and wading out into deeper water until she could dive into its cool depths. She needed to cool down, because being with Oliver was sending her blood temperature sky high.
Oliver stood on the damp sand, holding Lucy’s dress and watching her disappear under the tossing waves. He didn’t think he’d ever forget the sight of her long, lean body barely covered by the small bikini.
All Kate’s talk of community and her attempts to draw him into family warmth were appreciated but left him cold. But this — Lucy diving cleanly into the water — affected him in a way nothing else could. It touched something in him he’d forgotten he still had.
She was at one with the world. The sun and sky and sea and clean air were all around. And despite what he’d said about his shoes, he could feel the shallow waves washing over his feet.
It was like when he was sailing. He hadn’t thought of it in years — his grandmother waving from the shore as he took a boat out alone, the quiet lift in his chest, the sense of space and possibility. He felt a flicker of it now, unexpected and familiar all at once.
Lucy surfaced and struck out in a strong freestyle, her blonde hair blending with the surf.
White horses. The old childhood image rose unbidden — the wind skimming the tops of waves so they looked like wild horses charging the shore. He watched one crest roll in and found himself blinking hard.
And in that moment he realised that, even if he could never fully understand community, he could understand this place. It had slipped past his defences before he’d even noticed.
And so, it seemed, had she.